


Fun

by supervillainesses



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supervillainesses/pseuds/supervillainesses
Summary: In the process of proving to Harley that she can, in fact, be “fun,” Ivy tips her hand and divulges deadly information.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Again one of my first fics written almost 3 years ago, but still pretty enjoyable.

At the end of a long, hellish day of shopping—or, well, it was what she and the girls called it—there was nothing Harley wanted more than a hot bath, a tall glass of frosty milk, maybe a shitty _Lifetime_ movie, and of course…

“Babies!” Harley called the instant Selina opened the front door of the hideout. “Come to Mama!”

Before she could even finish her command, Bud and Lou were already making their way from upstairs to their mother. She tossed Selina her loot, flung off the jester hat, and practically clothes-lined the hyenas halfway through the foyer. The three of them rolled to a stop, and the hyenas began the usual tradition of kissing Harley’s makeup off her face before she could even think to wash it away.

“Ah,” Harley sighed, fighting against the boys’ snuggles. “No greater love in the whole damn world! I dunno how I make myself leave the house again and _again_ when I have these two.”

"To maintain at least a _semblance_ of sanity, I’m sure.” If Harley’s happiness were a finely made dress, then Pam was alternately the zipper that held it together, or the wrinkle that needed steaming out. She stuck out her tongue at the redhead, but was shocked when Selina grabbed it and yanked. “OWTH!”

"Manners, ladies.” Selina frowned at her glove, now accompanied with some Harley-spit—served her right. “If you guys fight and break this house again, I’ll kick both your asses ‘til kingdom come. Peachy?”

“Yes, Selina,” Harley and Pam droned in unison.

“Music to my ears, children,” Selina was already halfway up the stairs, casually unzipping her catsuit as if her two friends weren’t just a flight below as she stripped. “I’m hopping into the big bath for the next hour and then hopefully slipping into a short, blissful coma.”

“No fair!” Harley vaulted to her feet, shoving off the hyenas. “I wanted to use the big bath!”

“ _First come, first serve!_ ” Selina shouted, taking off at top speed in the direction of the object of Harley’s desire.

Harley flung herself to the floor, lying face down. Some days, it felt like her natural state of being. Bud and Lou flanked her on either side, nestling in beside her and began doing the only thing they knew how when Harley was upset. They licked her face and nudged various places around her arms with their snouts. She laughed so hard no sound came out as their cold noses and tongues touched her and whiskers brushed her skin.

“Amazing,” Pam sighed. Harley rolled over to find her sitting cross-legged on the floor, her cheek resting on the back of her hand. She smiled lazily down at her. “And pathetic. Just the teensiest touch and you completely lose it. I’ve seen children with more composure when tickled.”

“Hey! Are you implying that _I_ am like a _child?_ ”

“Well, yeah, I thought that was exactly what I said.”

“Mmmggnghh,” Harley rolled over onto her side, away from Ivy. She clutched Lou in her arm and hugged him so tight the hyena wheezed. “It’s not fair. You and Selina are _always_ so _mean_ to me! I have a degree; I have street smarts—so _what_ if I know how to have a good time! Everyone thinks I’m a stupid, no-good, dirty-rotten, cotton candy-brained _bimbo!_ ”

“Oh, Harl,” Pam reached over and brushed Harley’s bangs out of her eyes. “You aren’t cotton candy-brained.”

Harley went silent. She knew, somehow, that if she spoke again she’d just end up crying. She wasn’t like Selina or Pam; she couldn’t just express herself without getting emotional. People tended not to take you too seriously when you’re an angry crier. Instead of retaliating, she buried her face in Lou’s fur. Bud wriggled from her grasp and disappeared somewhere out of sight; though the two hyenas were brothers, born from the same litter, it astounded Harley when they separated. A pack, no matter how small, should always stick together.

Something brushed against Harley’s arm. Glancing over her shoulder, she found that Pam now lay on the floor, flat on her back. After a few seconds of silence, she heard Pam sigh softly.

“And you aren’t a ‘bimbo,’” but that wasn’t enough to sway Harley. “…And you’re not _stupid_. You are, however, too invested in your emotions. You let them run you around like a dog on a leash, and sometimes you get hurt because of it—and not always on the job.”

There was a curious change in Pam’s tone with her last sentence, like a petal that was just beginning to wilt at the edges. Harley felt inclined to break her momentary vow of silence.

“And what exactly makes you an expert on emotion, _Pamela?_ ” She sat up, finding that Ivy had her eyes closed, her brows scrunched together as if she were trying her hardest to tune Harley out. “You can’t really put the way someone goes about happiness on a scale when your own _ass_ is so clenched you can’t even crack a smile half the time.”

“Are you implying that I’m _not_ fun?”

“I’m implying that when you and me watched fifteen videos of babies havin’ their first taste of lemon you didn’t even _guffaw_.”

Ivy sat up so quickly that she and Harley nearly bumped heads. “I can so be fun.”

With their faces so close, so close she could see the minute flecks of gold inlaid with the apple green of Pam’s eyes, Harley was suddenly aware of just how gross she was. Ivy let her plants do a lot of the work during a heist, but Harley’s strength was in her strength, and her efforts showed when the fight was through. Her jester’s makeup was mostly licked off and her suit was drenched in sweat; compared to Pam’s natural dewy green smell, she was sure she smelled like a wet dog by comparison.

Despite feeling so suddenly inferior, she mustered up the strength to say, “Prove it.”

Pam firmed her lips together in a line. “Want to water the plants with me?”

Harley couldn’t help but tilt her head. “That’s it? You want me to help you with your greenhouse? _That’s_ your idea of fun?”

Pam’s ears turned red, and if Harley weren’t so peeved, she would have laughed. “I’ve never let you help before. Doesn’t this make it an occasion? Aren’t occasions fun?”

And then Harley had it. Pam didn’t really have a good way to prove she was fun, and it was almost sad. Now that she thought about it, Pam didn’t really have any other friends. Selina had a few fences and other thieves she knew on the side; she was even mostly friendly with most of the Bats. Harley, no matter how on the outs she and Joker were, still had the henchmen to talk to, and Arnie Wesker, and she was on pretty good terms with most of the usual Arkham regulars.

For Pam, her world was just her and her plants, and for now, she was inviting Harley into it.

“Fine,” Harley relented, knowing it would be a real snooze, but she really had nothing better to do between now and when the water reheated after Selina’s bath. “I’m gonna go find Bud and feed him and Lou dinner.”

“Excellent,” there was a slight edge of satisfaction in Pam’s tone, if a bit smug. “Change into something you won’t mind getting dirty and meet me upstairs when you’re through.”

Bud hadn’t gone far. Harley baited the hyenas into the kitchen, where she dragged out their big sack of feed (nearly two-hundred dollars online; it wasn’t like people didn’t have hyenas to feed) and poured a huge pile on the floor. Next came the two huge steaks she hauled from the fridge, nicely thawed and ready for her babies to devour. No need for bowls with the way these two ate; some days Harley was surprised they didn’t eat straight through the floor, too.

“I wish I could understand her, fellas.” Harley sighed; speaking to her pets as she often did. She knew they didn’t actually understand, but sometimes they picked up on her tone of voice and knew to comfort her when necessary. “ _Both_ of ’em, actually.”

After Bud and Lou were finished, Harley took them to her room, and changed into a tank top and shorts. As she took her hair out of pigtails, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She’d gotten a bit more dinged up that she thought tonight. That Batgirl wasn’t just good with high-jumping, she also had a good left hook. She shoved her hair into a messy bun and gently touched the new bruises, longing more than ever before for the big bath. The other bathrooms in the building had only showers or baths where the water level didn’t even reach the shoulder.

To her confusion, Pam wasn’t in the greenhouse.

“Hello?” Harley called, but no response. Pouting, she approached a tangle of wildflowers blooming on a lattice of wood, recalling the number of times she’d walked in on Pam having full conversations with her plants. Maybe it was like Harley and the boys; just hearing your own voice was as good as someone listening sometimes. “Hmph. Just great. Maybe on top of bein’ sweaty, stinky, bruised, and sad, I can add ‘stood-up’ to the list of shitty things that happened tonight. Your mother is a real puzzle, little guys. Or girls. However plants work. Sometimes she’s all nice and hugs me, and tells me that I’m sweet and smart. Sometimes she tells me I’m dumb and I don’t know what I’m talking about, and that she knows what’s best for me.”

Harley jolted in place. She thought she heard something behind her, but no one was there.

“But she’s right,” she confided to the petals, touching them gently with a fingertip. She may have imagined it, but she could almost swear they followed her touch. “She’s always right. She’s right about when I’m being stupid, and when I’m being a baby. But I still get mad, and say means things to her I don’t really mean. She’s actually so much fun sometimes! She teaches me about plants, and nature, and literature, and other cool things. And she lets me talk about psychology, and criminals, and all the stupid thing Mistah J just calls stupid and makes me shut up about.

“I just…it’s not just her. _Everyone_ thinks I’m dumb. But when I tell ’er that I think I’m dumb, she gets all mad, and tells me I’m smart, or people just don’t understand me. Maybe that’s true, but I also think she’s kinda talking to herself about that. I may not understand Pammy all the time, but I do understand that she’s lonely, and so am I, and that when we’re, y’know, together it feels like we’re not.

“And Selina, too, a little. We’re a pack; a little, tiny pack of Alphas that don’t have anywhere else to go. So we stick together. Like Bud and Lou. Like a tiny family. Yeah. So, uh, if she really _can_ speak to flowers, and if she talks to ya guys, don’t tell her all the stuff I just said. Just…if she asks, let her know I’m sorry for telling her she’s no fun. Even if she’s not, I’m willing to be fun enough for the both of us.”

The flowers beneath her hand gently swayed as if blown by a gentle breeze. It almost looked like a nod.

“Okay. Well, I’m taking that as plant for ‘yes, ya majesty.’”

“Are you telling my plants to recognize you as their monarch?”

Harley swallowed a small “eek!” and sprung to her feet. Pam was no longer dressed in her Ivy costume, but was instead in an outfit similar to Harley’s. Her long red hair was braided to the side.

“Eh, it’s about time at least _something_ recognizes my greatness, Pam-Pam.” Harley did her best to shrug nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just spilled her guts to a cluster of flowers growing around some planks of wood. “So, where’s the watering cans?”

“No cans.”

“Garden hose?”

“No hoses.”

“Uh, do you just…want me to spit on them, then? ’Cause I’m getting real confu—”

In the split second before it happened, Pam’s mouth drew into a wide, sinister grin, and suddenly Harley was doused with water. Shocked, she hopped from one foot to the other, trying to shield her eyes from the spray as Pam laughed more heartily than usual.

“Did you think I really take the time to water this entire greenhouse by hand?” Pam asked, taking Harley’s hand from her forehead so she would be exposed to the full brunt of the spray. “I thought this might be a better way to cool down and at least get a _little_ clean.”

A few vines came over and formed a small umbrella over Pam.

“No fair!” Harley laughed, stretching so the manufactured rain hit more of her. “If I’m getting soaked, so are you, sister!”

“They did this one their own,” Pam sighed, brushing the greenery aside. As they trailed away, a vine brushed against her stomach, near the belly button, and Harley noticed her flinch. “I didn’t make them appear.”

“YOU’RE TICKLISH!”

 “I am not.” Pam’s eyes widened. “Are those bruises from tonight?”

“Yeah, but they’re nothin’, really. I just—don’t change the subject on me, ya damn hippie! I know what I saw!”

“Harley, back up. If you start something, you’re gonna have a real fight on your hands, and you’re already— _aagh!_ ”

Harley tackled Pam to the dirt, sitting on the older woman’s knees and exacting what would be her ultimate revenge for the night. Though she was no longer mad at Pam for telling her she was emotional, she could still recall every time she’d tickled Harley until she nearly peed herself.

“Harley,” Pam’s voice was a warning as Harley’s hands curled into tickling positions. “Harley, no. Harl- _eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_ ”

Around them, the plants shivered and shook as their mistress laughed and writhed in the dirt, the sound of their shaking like a forest in a storm. Pam had girlish laughter that was high and clear, the sort of sound a girl like Harley, practically a comedienne by her own standards, always liked to hear. It was loud, and robust, and slightly obnoxious, but _real_.

“Oh—no—” Ivy managed to gasp out as she laughed, and sat up. “My turn!”

“Oh sh—”

Pam flipped them over, and it was pretty much like always. Harley was pinned to the ground and Pam found her most ticklish places along her sides. Harley twisted and tried (halfheartedly) to break free. As fun as it was to see and hear Pam laugh and let go like that, the real fun for Harley would always be giving Pam the satisfaction of making someone else laugh for once.

And then the fluttery feeling turned to pain.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit!_ ” Pam practically flung herself from Harley the instant the jester yelped in pain. The sprinkler system sputtered to a stop, and Pam pushed her drenched red hair back from her face. “Harl, daffodil, are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley panted, breathless from the tickling and the sudden brush of Pam’s fingers against a deepening bruise at her rib cage. “Just me being a baby, I guess.”

“You aren’t being a _baby_ when you’re in serious pain,” Pam helped her sit, and gently rolled up the side of Harley’s shirt. “No wonder. It’s not just a _bruise_ , Harley. Looks like Batgirl got you with a batarang when you weren’t looking. The wound must have coagulated before you took off your costume.”

“English, please, Dr. Isley.”

“The _English_ , Dr. Quinzel, is it was a cut. Now it’s healing, but tickling it as I did only worsened it.” Pam shot back, likely recalling that Harley liked it when people brought up her PhD. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“See, this is what I just don’t get, Red.” Harley fixed her shirt. “You always do stuff like this, like apologize when you weren’t even the one that hurt me. Technically.”

“But I—”

“If you wanna, I dunno, _avenge_ me, then deck that Batgirl right in the face next time.”

“Why would you do that? Batgirl’s practically a kid.” Selina stood at the door of the greenhouse, rubbing a towel through her hair and dressed in pajamas. “I’ve got some questions, but I’m not sure I wanna ask. Do I take the risk?”

“Go for it,” Harley sighed, chuckling a bit when she noticed Pam glancing guiltily at the place her cut was.

“I’ll just sum it up in one: Why are you guys half-naked and covered in mud?”

“The short answer is Pam was being stubborn and now our bond is stronger than ever.”

Selina tilted her head, the gesture like a confused kitten. “Yeah, the short answer tells me jack.”

“The long answer—” Harley vaulted to her feet and yanked Ivy up by her arm, guiding her toward the door “—can wait until Pam and I are through with our bath.”

“ _Our?_ ” Pam’s voice went up in pitch and her hand tightened in Harley’s.

“Woo-hoo, get some, Pamela.” Selina jeered behind them, wolf-whistling as Harley led the way to what she hoped would be a nice, long, _well-deserved_ bath.


End file.
